The telephones rang constantly. Police officers rushed in and out of the station, carrying paperwork, guns, jackets, solving cases, gathering evidence. Arresting. Releasing. There was a stench, uniquely belonging to the station. A combination of must and sweat and urine. Grimy floors walked upon by the most dangerous of criminals, and the most heroic of cops. They all walked on the same ground; the same halls.

Tea and Ben waited for Bo in chairs outside of his office. Former colleagues watched from afar, too afraid to approach her, unable to find words to express their feelings. So they watched.

She could feel their eyes boring into her. Burning into her. She wondered if there was some sort of invisible sign, that people could sense she was a victim. Victim. Not a word that was normally associated with Tea Delgado, a word that she would never get used to. A word that was a perfect description.

Everything was so dirty. The walls smeared with dirt, dust, dried blood. Greasy sandwiches, half-eaten doughnuts spread across desks. Things that she never noticed before were magnified a thousand times. She had the sudden urge to shower, to wash away the dirt that clung to her body.

Ben watched her every action and reaction, with an analytical eye. Her shuddering, shivering body jumping at every sound. The loose thread hanging from her sweater, which she tugs at, twisting it between her thumb and forefinger.

“Tea, you can come in now,” Bo says. “Hi, Bo Buchanan,” he says, turning toward Ben.

“Ben Michaels.” The two men shake hands. “Tea, I’ll just wait out here for you.”

She nods her head, and follows Bo into his office. They are alone. His desk is covered with evidence from her case. Her statement, the letters, forensic evidence lay purposely on top of the pictures that were taken that night. Bo gathers everything into a pile, save one statement.

“I want you to have a look at this,” he says, sliding the statement across the desk.

“Sure. What is it?” She asks, flipping through the packet.

“We picked up a young kid today, around the area where the attack took place. He was dealing. We brought him down here, questioned him. Turns out, that he was on the docks that night, and thinks he saw the guy that attacked you. He’s not talking though.”

“A hell of a lot of good that does us,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“You know this kid. Take another look at his name.”

Donald Wilkenson. The name rang a bell. He was a runaway, arrested for petty theft. He was so cocky when he was brought in, giving the officers a hard time. Yelling and cursing at anyone in sight. Tea saw through his bravado, to the scared 15-year-old, hiding inside.

Donnie reminded her of Todd. Tall, broad-shouldered with long, messy hair. A swagger in his step. Mouthed off to any and everyone in sight. Surrounded himself by an impenetrable wall of attitude. She had a way of breaking down his walls. She listened, something that no one had ever done for him. He told her of the daily beatings he received as a child. His journey from Ohio to Pennsylvania, stowing away on trains, surviving on scraps he pulled out of the garbage.

They talked for hours. He reminded her of what Todd must have been like as a young boy. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and outsiders knowingly turned a blind eye.

Tea convinced Hank that a good, caring environment could turn Donnie completely around. Jail or juvenile detention would only make things worse. She worked closely with a social worker to find a good home for him.

She followed his progress closely, spending time with him, until the rape. Now, he was under arrest again, this time for a much more serious crime.

“Where is he?” she asks, still reading his statement.

“In holding.”

“Could we, maybe, use your office to talk?”

“Sure.”

Bo makes a phone call to another officer, to arrange for Donnie to be brought up. Tea didn’t speak. Bo didn’t speak. He watched her. She avoided his gaze, shifting uncomfortably.

“Commish, do you want me to uncuff him?”

“Yeah. You’re not going to try anything Donnie, are you? ‘Cause if you try anything, you’re going straight down to lockup.”

“I ain’t gonna do nothin’,” Donnie says.

Tea remains seated her back to the door. The guard removes the handcuffs. Donnie rubs his sore wrist, red from the cuffs.

“Tea,” Bo says, “we’ll be right outside if you need us.”

She nods her head. Bo gives Donnie an intimidating warning stare, before leaving the room.

“Hello, Donnie,” Tea says, with a hint of anger in her voice, turning methodically to face Donnie. He cannot meet her eyes.

“Hey.”

“Come and sit next to me,” she says. He briefly hesitates before doing as he’s told. “What happened?”

“I fucked up. Again. It’s what I do best.” He crosses his leg, reaching for his shoelaces, twisting them around his fingers.

“No, it’s not. You were doing so well.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I wanted you to think.”

“Look at me Donnie.” He doesn’t respond. “Donnie,” she says more softly.

“What?” he snaps.

“You and I are friends, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You can tell me anything and it doesn’t have to go any further unless you want it to.” Have patience.

Patience is overrated.

She shakes the memory out of her head, concentrating on the here and now.

“I’m so sorry ‘bout what happened to you. I didn’t see much.”

“Tell me what you did see,” she encourages.

“Will you help me?” He asked, eyes glistening with hope. “I mean, you did before. I didn’t have no choice. I swear.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but you have to help me too.”

“Like I said, I didn’t see much. I saw this guy on the docks; I ain’t never seen him before. He had on all black. I remember his shoes though. They was expensive. It was real dark. He was tall, like six foot or somethin’. He had dark hair-“

“You saw him without the mask?”

“Yeah, only for a second, and from the back. He had short, dark hair. It looked like he just got it cut. He was big, wide shoulders. I watched him for a minute. He was lookin’ at somethin’, but I couldn’t see that good. I made a noise, and he turned around. I ran. I went to another alley, and I saw this car.”

“Was it his? Do you remember anything about it? The make? The model? Did you get the plates? Color, do you remember the color?” Her mind works frantically, throwing question after question his way. Her mind swirls, heartbeat quickens with hope.

“I think so. Uh, it was a new car. It was a dark blue or black LHS. Top of the line. The first three letters of the plates are HTC. I’m sorry, I can’t remember no more.”

“You did good, Donnie. How come you didn’t come forward sooner? I thought we were friends.”

“I didn’t know what happened to you. You just stopped callin’ and comin’ by. I thought you gave up on me.”

Tea listened intently, wanting to reach out to him, to reassure him, but she couldn’t. It was so frustrating, her body not complying with her heart’s wishes. “I would and could never give up on you. I haven’t been myself lately.”

“Yeah, but you look fine. God, that was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I may look fine on the outside, but on the inside, that’s a different story. May I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you have said anything about what you saw had it not been me?”

“Naw. I only found out about you by accident. When they brought me in, I asked for you and they said you wasn’t here. That’s when the guard told me what happened. I heard about, you know, what happened on the docks, but I didn’t have no idea it was you.”

“I’m really glad that you told me. I’m going to get Bo, and see what we can do about helping you out of this mess, okay?”

“Yeah.”

*****

Ben chatted with Hank while Tea was with Donnie. As sports fans, the communicated easily, debating everything from how the college football national champion should be determined, to the greatest professional basketball team ever.

“I’m telling you, Ben, the Bulls are the best. How can you dispute that? They won six championships in the nineties,” Hank argues.

“So, they had no real competition. Look, the Lakers had to contend with the Celtics, the Knicks, the Pistons. Who did the Bulls have to compete with?”

“We had Jordan, that’s all we needed.”

“Yeah, I guess so when he’s allowed to take fifteen steps through the lane without the ball touching the floor, not to mention his legendary palming of the ball. Oh, and don’t even look at him cross-eyed or you’re call for a foul. It was uneven-“

“Excuse me,” Tea interrupts, “but I need to talk to you in private Hank.”

“Sure. Let’s go to my office,” Hank says, turning his attention to Ben, “we’ll have to continue this conversation later. It was nice meeting you.”

“You too.”

*****

A man had followed Ben and Tea from the penthouse to the police station. Todd followed them as well; oblivious to black Chrysler LHS that followed them all. The man was a deft driver, weaving in and out of traffic like an expert. He stayed plenty of car lengths behind, merging with traffic.

He had the ability to adapt to his surroundings. He could become a part of his surroundings, go with the flow. That talent was very useful, especially has he entered the police station. He went in unnoticed: a chameleon. A cool, confident exterior, disguising the predator within.

He concealed himself around a corner, having a perfect view of every area of the squad room. Busy with their own tasks, nobody paid him any attention.

*****

Hank agreed to go easy on Donnie, if the judge concurred. Tea was willing to testify on his behalf if the need arose. This was his final shot at getting his life together. His final chance.

Ben made friends easily at the station. People were drawn in by the friendliness of his face, the radiance of his smile. Charisma. Slipping effortlessly from one conversation to another, discussing everything from politics to sports and everything in between.

When Tea and Hank rejoined him, he was involved in an animated conversation with another officer. He flashed Tea a smile, politely ending his chat.

“Hey, how’d it go?” Ben asks.

“I’ll tell you about it in the car,” Tea replies. “Hank, thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome. We’re going to get this guy. That’s a promise.”

*****

Penthouse 2

It was well after midnight when they arrived back at the penthouse, followed by Todd, followed by the predator. On the way back to the penthouse, Tea explained the new evidence to Ben. She was cautiously optimistic. She knew too well how easily someone could slip past the police. He listened, nodded his head, understood what she was saying. He was doing what he never could do for his sister; he listened. Without interrupting, he listened, as the anger poured out of her voice.

Something had changed within her soul. Something that she could not understand; could not explain, but a little of the hurt had turned to anger. Not much, but just a little. Maybe it was the knowledge that somewhere along the line, the bastard had slipped up and was seen. Hope.

She put her keys back on Todd’s desk, running her fingers along the mahogany. Her mind wandered back to Donnie, drawing parallels between his childhood, and the one Todd would rarely discuss. Another layer of sadness covered her heart with just the mere thought of him. If someone had cared enough about him, would he have turned out differently? Was he raped by his father? Was it once? More than once? How did he survive? She shook her head. The pain turned to anger, that’s how he coped. Or didn’t cope.

“Tea, you okay?” Ben asks.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

He nods his head, not believing her for a minute. “Okay, well, I have an early day tomorrow. Just give me a call if you need anything.”

“Okay. Thanks for everything you did today. It really means a lot.”

“No problem.” She walks him out, locking, latching, deadbolting the door.

The red light on the answering machine blinked incessantly. A few were junk messages, but mostly they were people calling to see how she was doing. She rolled her eyes as caller after caller wanted to, “just check on you,” “worried about you,” “hadn’t spoken to you,” on and on.

Viki left several messages, her voice sounding more urgent with each call. She was worried. Tea dialed her home phone number, not surprised when Viki answered, sounding completely awake.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Viki, it’s Tea.” She sits at Todd’s desk, facing the chair toward the fireplace. In that position, she could see both the window, and the door, so that no one could sneak up on her.

“Oh, thank god. I was so worried about you. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I was at the police station.”

“Oh?”

“Bo called and asked me to come down. They found somebody that had information on the guy that did that to me.”

“What kind of information.”

“A description of the car, make and model, what the guy was wearing, that sort of thing. He didn’t get a real good look, but it’s a start.” She opens the drawer, finding her gun, holding it in her hands.

“That’s great news. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, a little. I just wanted to check in with you.”

“Okay. Thanks for calling me back. I’ll come by tomorrow morning to bring you breakfast.”

“Um, Viki,” Tea says nervously.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been having this feeling for a few days now about…Todd.”

Viki closes her eyes, anticipating the question that she is about to be asked. “What about him?”

“The other night, I woke up and I could have sworn that he was in the room with me. But I guess it was a figment of my imagination. Ever since then, I’ve just been having this strange feeling, like he was around, somewhere…close to me. Have you heard from him?”

“I have,” she answers after a pause.

Clearly she does not want to elaborate, and Tea does not want to put her in an awkward position. “Hmm,” she pauses, waiting for Viki to elaborate. Viki says nothing more. “Well, I’ll let you go.” She goes over the conversation over and over in her head, curious as to what Viki was not telling her.

*****

He uses his signal jammer to stop the live feed to Todd’s penthouse. Wearing dark clothing and a mask over his face, he surveys the area. Satisfied that there is no one else around, he removes an envelope from his breast pocket. He slides it under her door. He removes another envelope and drops it, just outside of Todd’s door.

An uneasy feeling washes over a dozing Todd. It passes. He looks at the monitor, which is nothing but static. He jiggles the wires in the back. Nothing. “Goddamnit!”

He steps inside the elevator, and removes the stick, which held it open. Todd yanks his door open, with the intention of checking the outside connection. He stops cold, seeing the masked man in the elevator, just as the doors are closing. The man smiles. He waves. The doors shut.

Todd struggles with chasing after the guy, and possibly leaving Tea open for another attack, or staying. It could all be a setup. They could be trying to get me away from her. Todd seats himself against the wall, guarding her. When he looks down, he sees the envelope with his name printed on the top. He rips it open and stares at the note with disbelieving eyes.

What you see, I see. I know what you’re going to do before you do it. I am your shadow, as you are hers. I watch you both. I am the predator, and you are my prey.

“Who in the hell are you!”